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R. S. Thomas

R. S. Thomas

A Marriage

We met
          under a shower
of bird-notes.
          Fifty years passed,
love’s moment
          in a world in
servitude to time.
          She was young;
I kissed with my eyes
          closed and opened
them on her wrinkles.
          ‘Come,’ said death,
choosing her as his
           partner for
the last dance. And she,
           who in life
had done everything
           with a bird’s grace,
opened her bill now
           for the shedding
of one sigh no
           heavier than a feather.

#Welsh #XXCentury

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It will not always be like this, The air windless, a few last Leaves adding their decoration To the trees’ shoulders, braiding… Of the boughs with gold; a bird pr…
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So beautiful—God himself quailed at her approach: the long body cur… like the horizon. Why had he made her so? How would it be, she said, leaning towards him, if instead of
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Davies thought life was long; there was a sameness in the song. Pugh thought it all too brief, the fruit ripe before the leaf turned. How is it with you
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She is young. Have I the right Even to name her? Child, It is not love I offer Your quick limbs, your eyes; Only the barren homage
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We’ve nothing vast to offer you, n… Except the waste of thought Forming from mind erosion; No canyons where the pterodactyl’s… Falls like a shadow.
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Hers is the clean apron, good for… Or lamp to embroider, as we talk s… In the long kitchen, while the whi… Turns to pastry in the great oven, Sweetly and surely as hay making
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There was Dai Puw. He was no goo… They put him in the fields to dock… And took the knife from him, when… At late evening with a grin Like the slash of a knife on his f…
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You go up the long track That will take a car, but is best… On slow foot, noting the lichen That writes history on the page Of the grey rock. Trees are about…
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I praise you because you are artist and scientist in one. When I am somewhat fearful of your power, your ability to work miracles
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